


the two of us against the grain

by Suicix



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Body Worship, Comeplay, Community: wrestlingkink, Established Relationship, Fluff, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-07-25 20:57:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7547081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suicix/pseuds/Suicix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Life on the road might still feel alien, and hotel rooms might be impersonal, but it never is with Justin.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>Set late 2010, written for <a href="http://wrestlingkink.dreamwidth.org/279.html?thread=958487#cmt958487">this</a> prompt at the wrestling kink meme on Dreamwidth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the two of us against the grain

**Author's Note:**

> as i said in the summary, this is set in late 2010, so they're the tag team champions. also i can't believe i got to write this ship for the kink meme (much less that someone prompted it in 2016) so thank you and bless you op!!

It’s only been a few months since this – since _everything_ : NXT, Nexus, Heath’s real career, the two of them – began, and Heath can’t believe it. It all still feels like some sort of wild dream that he only leaves when he falls asleep. He’s got Justin – who, back in NXT, Heath honestly wanted even more than he wanted to win the competition – and they already have title gold (or rather, title _bronze_ ) in their hands. Heath hadn’t expected that all those months ago when he was eliminated from NXT. He hadn’t expected any of it at all.

Right now, the title belts have been abandoned (though lovingly, carefully abandoned) on the table over by the window. The curtains are drawn – plain, white, boring curtains that would probably be _way_ too easy to stain somehow if Heath were to come back here drunk one night, so maybe the staff should do something about that – and they blend right into the wall. Really, it feels just like every other hotel room they’ve stayed in so far. The same nondescript furniture, the same not knowing if the bed is going to be comfortable enough to sleep a full night in. It’s all the same, every city, every state. He’d thought it would be some kind of fun adventure, every second full of excitement, but really it’s just one long routine.

But while hotel rooms might be impersonal, might feel like some long assembly line that’s building to nothing across the country, that’s not what it’s like with Justin at all. It certainly isn’t impersonal _now_ , when the two of them are on the bed, skin to skin, clothes discarded on the floor without much of a care about whether they get crumpled or not.

There’s only one last piece of clothing to get off, and that’s Heath’s underwear, and Justin’s _really_ taking his time with it. His cock is already straining against the fabric – he wants this so damn much already – and finally, _finally_ Justin works the garment off his hips and down his legs, and Heath tosses it so it joins the rest of the clothes in the pile on the carpet.

Justin’s kneeling over him, and the look in his eyes is something that Heath can’t quite place. It’s love and awe, and he _knows_ that, but it still feels a little foreign that someone could feel that way about him – that someone _does_ feel that way about him – and so strongly, too.

And Justin never tries to hide that.

“Let me do something for you, OK?” he says, and Heath just nods an answer. He trusts Justin. He knows that whatever it is that Justin’s going to do will be good, will be incredible.

He knows because Justin loves him for him, for every part of him, for all his flaws and strange quirks, even the things that make Wade roll his eyes and say _look, Slater, can you just be **serious** for once in your entire life?_ Everything.

And he feels the same way about Justin in return – _especially_ when Justin’s leaning in to kiss him like he is now.

It’s slow and soft to start, so much so that Heath feels like he could melt into the sheets because he’s so relaxed, but then Justin’s pressing kisses to his jaw and neck, and as he moves down, it gets rougher-faster-harder, teeth biting at Heath’s skin, just as deadly and precise as Justin’s four-fifty splash is in the ring. A _good_ deadly and precise, though: one that seems to shoot pleasure right to Heath’s dick, not one that’s painful in the slightest. He only hopes the marks won’t stay there for long after tonight, but right now they’re a physical reminder that Justin is here for him and that it will last.

He closes his eyes – a difficult decision because he _does_ want to watch Justin, but he also wants to feel everything times five – though moments later they’re forced open again when he feels Justin’s tongue flick against a nipple. Heath shivers at both the sensation and the suddenness of it, can feel his nipple starting to harden under Justin’s touch. He’s sensitive so it’s easy to get them stiff, and Justin moves across to the other one and treats it the same way, tongue wet and warm and just what Heath needs.

They’re both getting hard now, and his cock is hard, and Justin’s hard, too, and Heath wants _more_ but he’ll wait for it. He’s normally impatient, would usually reach out and tug at some hair and say _hey, hurry the fuck up_ as good-naturedly as he can, but it’s different with Justin. Heath actually wants to watch Justin take his time, wants him to go slow, wants to feel _loved_.

And he does: there isn’t anything else that can describe the way Justin’s looking at him, the way Justin’s touching him, other than _love_ and _care_ and _I want you so bad_. Justin keeps his eyes on Heath the whole time he makes his way down Heath’s chest and stomach, and it’s impossible to look away.

“I’m so proud of you,” Justin says, murmuring the words against Heath’s skin. His breath is warm and it almost tickles. “Of us. Mostly you, though.”

“Yeah,” Heath agrees, stroking a hand through Justin’s hair, gentle. “Tag team champions. What can stop us now, huh?”

Justin’s expression tells him that the answer to that question is _nothing_. He moves lower, his mouth on Heath’s hips, then gets a hand on Heath’s cock and starts kissing along the length of it, bringing him to full hardness with lips and tongue. Heath can’t help but shudder at the way it feels, and that gets Justin’s eyes on him, just as much love there as there is a smirk.

“Come on,” Heath tells him, jerking his hips forward a little, and Justin finally stops teasing.

Or, he doesn’t stop teasing, as Heath discovers barely a moment later. Sure, Justin gets his mouth around Heath’s cock, but he takes it slow, like he’s savouring it. He’s a fucking vision, and Heath just watches, eyes wide. Justin looks – he looks almost goddamn _reverent_ like that, his eyes closed as he hums around Heath, damn near moaning. He’s so into it. How can he be so into it when he’s not even being touched? Heath understands like, really enjoying getting fucked without being touched, because yeah, that’s incredible no matter what, because you’ve got some stimulation whether there’s a hand on your dick or not, but the fact that Justin’s so worked up from just sucking cock alone? Damn. He’s never really noticed it before, not in all the times Justin’s gone down on him.

Thinking about it, though, maybe it’s not just the giving head part of this that’s doing it for Justin. Maybe it’s because it’s _him_ , and because Justin loves him, and maybe that’s why it’s doing so much for him, and _oh_ , and something in his chest twinges when he realises that that’s just how he feels about Justin. That he probably looks the same when he’s down there like that for Justin, that he probably looks like he’s having the time of his goddamn life, like it’s better than the high of being in the ring, better than the way that good live music always seems to resonate deep in Heath’s chest and in his _soul_ , better than any thrill that Justin could ever chase.

That thought’s at the forefront of Heath’s mind as Justin continues, and then when Justin stops, pulling himself off, catching his breath.

“Do you want me to–?” Heath starts to ask, ready to return the favour and move into a position where he can get his mouth on Justin’s dick, but Justin shakes his head.

“Let me,” he says instead, and he shifts around so he’s on top of Heath, so that when he pushes his hips forward, their cocks brush, and – oh, _shit_. It’s such a simple movement, and yet Heath swears he feels his dick twitching as Justin grinds against him.

It would probably be easier if they had lube or oil or something (they _do_ , but Heath doesn’t want to stop this, doesn’t want to even move from the bed, doesn’t want Justin to move, either), but it still feels amazing, rocking their hips into each other like this. The rhythm’s slow but perfect, and Heath didn’t think it’d be possible to feel even harder and better than he was earlier in Justin’s mouth, but here he is, Justin’s cock stiff against his own.

He feels so _warm_ like this, Justin’s body tight against his, both of them sticky with sweat. Justin’s breathing is heavy and deep and he’s making these _noises_ that have Heath thrusting his hips up against Justin’s just that bit faster, just that bit more desperately. He needs this, needs Justin, needs to get off like this, needs – needs everything.

It’s like Justin’s reading his mind: soon enough, Justin leans up a bit, and there’s a hand joining where their cocks meet in between them, wrapping around them both. Heath moans, cock flushed and aching for it, and Justin’s jerking him off, hand moving fast. They’re both slick with precome now, and it makes the slide of Justin’s hand that much easier, pushes Heath closer to the edge that much quicker. He can’t hold on for much longer like this, so he just gives into it, shuddering as Justin brings him off, making him come over his own body, over his hips and stomach.

Heath thinks Justin’s going to keep going until he comes as well, but Justin pulls away again, gets his mouth on – _god_ , on where some of his come landed. Heath lets a hand wander back into Justin’s hair as Justin kisses and licks at his chest and stomach, working to catch every last drop. Once he’s done, he kneels up and leans in for a kiss. It’s wet and it’s messy and Heath can taste himself and it’s absolutely perfect. He’s damn near breathless when Justin pulls away. Justin’s panting, too, eyes sparkling at Heath like he deserves the world.

And Justin deserves the world as well – deserves stars in his eyes and to get to come like that, good and hard – so Heath sits up.

“Let me get you off,” he says, leaning up on his elbows, sitting up, and moving down the bed closer to Justin. “C’mon.”

He gets his hand around Justin’s dick and sets a rhythm, steady and sure. Justin’s just as hard as he was before, still leaking precome, so it’s easy to get him there. He’s loud, just about howling when he comes – Heath can’t help but smirk: he’s _never_ going to let the whole werewolf thing go as long as Justin’s still making noises like that in bed – his come splashing over his own skin as Heath works his cock.

Heath raises his eyebrows once he’s finished, a silent _you want me to get rid of that?,_ but Justin just shakes his head, the look in his eyes satisfied and sleepy, and manoeuvres them so they’re both lying on their side, one of his hands on Heath’s hip.

Like this, it’s easy for Heath to let his eyes slip shut. Not to go to sleep yet, because they should probably shower, but just to relax. It’s definitely easy to relax when Justin buries his face in Heath’s hair and kisses his neck.

“I love you,” he murmurs, and though Heath’s heard it from Justin countless times before, his heart still throbs at the words. It’s all he’s wanted, really: to feel like he’s wanted himself.

“Yeah,” he says, placing a hand on top of Justin’s. “I love you, too.”

They’re silent for a few moments. Heath swears he can hear his own heartbeat. Maybe it’s not even his, maybe it’s Justin’s. Maybe it’s both of theirs, beating together, synchronising, becoming one.

“You know, you were the first person here who really made the States feel like it could be home for me,” says Justin, his voice quiet, like it’s some sort of secret for only the two of them. Just the knowledge alone makes Heath feel like he’s glowing.

“You’re the same to me,” he says, though seconds later, he frowns, because really, it’s not quite the same. “Well. Not like, the States, because I guess it already was home, but – on the road like this, y’know?”

“It’s OK,” says Justin, and Heath can hear the smile in his voice. “I know what you mean.”

Of course he does: they’re always in sync. They’re the goddamn tag team champions, after all, and they’re the tag team champions _together_. And they’ll be together long after they lose the titles (which hopefully won’t be soon), long after this is all over, long after everyone else has abandoned them, even Wade. That’s what matters the most: that they’ve got each other. That he’s got Justin, and that Justin has him.


End file.
